Page 100 of The Blessing

“Did she explain why they took you in at all?” Ronnie asks as she plays with my hair in an effort to comfort me.

“Well, not really. I honestly didn’t press her as hard as I fucking could’ve or should’ve. She did say that I wasn’t in the best of shape when they got me.”

I’m quiet as I think about what that could possibly mean. I’ve been considering it for hours. I would’ve asked Evelyn, but she never really cared about anything that hadn’t directly affected her. I think I’ll ask Felicity because next time I see her, I intend to get my other fucking questions answered, too. I’m not going to let fear control my life or my actions. My mind would’ve been at ease right now if I had spoken up sooner.

“You weren’t in ‘good shape’?” Ronnie quietly asks, as if she’s saying it to herself. “Do you think you were abused before your dad got you?”

“By Felicity?” I ask incredulously. I don’t know her well, but she doesn’t strike me as the “abusive type.” Besides, if she had abused me, I know for damn sure my dad wouldn’t be chumming it up with her right now. “No. I really don’t think so,” I finally say.

“Maybe her husband then? Has your dad told you anything about him?”

I scrub my hands over my face and groan. I don’t want to fucking think about this shit. I don’t want to even consider it. I’ve always hated confrontation for exactly this reason. I don’t like to face up to shit that I wish I could go on knowing nothing about. “I have no idea, baby. All my dad said was that Felicity and her husband had gotten married while he was away at college. Her husband was in the army or something like that, so they would move around constantly. He died last year and that’s pretty much all I know about him.”

Could her husband be the reason she gave me to my dad? If her husband was so fucking terrible, why didn’t she leave him? That’s the million-fucking-dollar question. I’m sure she had at least one person in her life who could’ve supported and helped her. Hell, there’s battered women’s shelters for fuck’s sake. Why didn’t she just leave him and go there? Did she really think she was giving me a “better life” by giving me to my dad and his wife to raise? I suppose she was inexperienced, and I’m sure in retrospect, she views this situation very differently. But hell—that doesn’t make the current situation any fucking better.

“I’m sure when you see your mother, you’ll get all your questions answered.”

I nod. “I know I will. It’ll just be her and I, so I know I won’t pussy out like I did last time.”

Ronnie grimaces and I smirk, despite my shitty mood. She fucking hates when I say things like “pussy out.” “Pussies have more power than you think, Trev. You don’t think my pussy is strong enough to take a pounding from that cock of yours?” she always tells me. Fuck, she’s funny. My Betty White obsessed, adorable fucking girlfriend. Comments like that always make me smile. Hell, Ronnie in general always makes me smile, no matter what she says or does.

“You’ll be fine,” she assures me, kissing my cheek. “I know you will.”

Fuck, do I hope so. I want answers. My meeting with Felicity can’t come soon enough.

I stare at the phone number scribbled on a piece of paper in my dad’s handwriting for a long time. This is another step toward finding the truth about myself, and yet, I find it impossible to just dial the fucking number. There’s something about Felicity that’s intimidating to me. I just feel like I have something to prove when I’m around her. I’m so used to contempt and rejection coming from the only mother figure I’ve known that now, I expect the same treatment from her. Despite the fact that she’s treated me so well since I’ve know her.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I look at the paper. I’ve got to call her soon. I can’t just wait for her to magically read my mind and call me. “Fuck it, you’ve got to do this, Trevor.” I say to myself as I enter her number into my phone.

I hold my breath as it rings, not knowing how I’ll react to hearing her voice. I never know what to do or say around her. I hope this feeling won’t be something I’ll become too used to. I hope eventually I’ll be able to grow accustomed to her. I want her in my life, despite what she’s done.

“Hello?” Her voice makes my jaw clench and I wonder if she even knows who’s calling. “Trevor?” she asks after a heartbeat of silence.

“Hey…” I awkwardly begin. Fuck, Trevor. Just spit it out. “I hope you’re not busy right now. I didn’t know when the best time to call would be.”

“No, it’s fine, Trevor. I’m not busy,” she says, sounding thrilled that I actually called her. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I reply, still sounding uncomfortable and insanely awkward. “I just wanted to call and ask if you still were available to meet with me this weekend. Maybe get lunch or something… I just had some stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Of course,” she answers promptly, like my offer will disappear if she doesn’t respond right away. “I can be free to meet with you whenever it’s best for you.”

“Are you free tomorrow?” I feel like if I put it off for too long I’ll end up cancelling.

“Tomorrow is good,” she responds. Her voice sounds light—happy even. I can imagine her smiling as she talks to me over the phone. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you, Trevor.”

“Me, too.” My response is as awkward as it is honest. We make plans to get together tomorrow afternoon before saying our goodbyes. She seems happy that I called. That’s something, at least. I hope she’s still happy with me tomorrow after I give her the third degree. It’s finally time for me to hear the truth. I wonder who I’ll be tomorrow after I get my answers from her. It feels like I’m fucking transforming into someone different each day as I roll with the punches.